Thunder rumbled as Lois settled in on the front porch swing with Clark. He sat at an angle in the corner of the swing, and she tucked her feet up beside her, leaning against his broad chest. Between the denim quilt that cushioned the swing and the patchwork quilt that covered them, Lois was quite comfortably warm.

Clark really was a great cook. His soup had warmed her up from the inside out. After lunch they had driven to town, picked up some tomato and pepper plants, and then returned to put them into the garden. By the time that was all done, it was dinner time again. Martha was making spaghetti inside, but she had shooed them both out of the kitchen and insisted that they go watch the lightening.

For a while they sat in companionable silence, swaying in the swing and listening to the rain. Eventually, though, Lois gave in to one of the questions that kept popping into her head. "You could have tilled up the garden by hand faster than with that tractor and had the whole thing planted in less than a minute if you wanted to."

His hand idly caressed up and down her side in time with the swing. "True."

"And your mom and I are in on the secret, so it wouldn't be like you'd be jeopardizing anything. So just out of curiosity, why didn't you?"

Lightening struck, washing the world white, and thunder clapped a couple of heartbeats later. As it faded, Clark said, "Well, there's always the possibility of a chance passerby, but..." His voice took on a wistful tone. "Life is short enough. Why race to the end of it?"

Lois blinked and tried to make sense of where he was coming from. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Sorry," he said, though she could hear the smile in his voice. "It's just something Dad used to say. What I meant was, I had a lot of fun in the garden, and you seemed to enjoy yourself, too."

"I did. I've never tackled Superman before."

He chuckled and the caress on her ribs became a tickle. Laughing, Lois squirmed away. Clark nudged her close again, placing his arm around her shoulder instead as an unspoken promise to behave. "I know Mom loved every second of it. We would have missed all that joy if I'd just done it myself. Nobody else can keep up – moving that fast is kind of lonely."

A smile spread over Lois' face to realize it wasn't just part of the disguise that he did so many little human things at what must sometimes be a tortuously-slow human pace. Taking his time was one of the ways he kept the social contract with humanity. "You live like us to be one of us."

"Guess so."

Lois rested her head on his shoulder again. "Was all of today part of that?"

"What do you mean?

"I've never seen you this... playful. First there was the 'I'm watching' comment about checking out my derriere, then the whole thing with swimming and now tickling me. I mean, I know you can't get drunk, but is there an illicit drug that can mess with Kryptonian physiology?"

He snorted softly in amusement. "I doubt it. I'm just..."

Lois lifted her head to glance at him when he hesitated. He stared up at the low, gray clouds, but his smile didn't fade. "I guess I'm just more relaxed here. I can be myself around you and Mom. There's no reason to hide. And Metropolis..." His smile turned wry. "Metropolis is pretty overstimulating if I'm not on my guard." He met her gaze. "Don't get me wrong – it's worth every minute being there – but here I'm just me. Right now, I don't have to filter out any of my powers."

Lois tilted her head curiously. "What can you hear in the storm?"

"What can you hear?" he retorted.

Smiling, she said, "I'll tell if you will."

He smirked but leaned back, playing along. "The lightening crackles and hisses through the rain. I can hear it a split second before the thunder, if the strike is close enough."

"How close is close enough?"

"Maybe a couple of miles. There's hail on the other side of this storm – it's plinking on cars and tin roofs – but with the direction of the wind, I doubt it'll come near us. You?"

"Nothing like that," she said, closing her eyes to focus on the sounds around her. "Just the rain. The susurrus of the water on the grass. The patter of it in the mud. The trickle in the downspout."

A smile twitched on her lips. "Not a honk, not a siren, not even the sound of car tires on the road." Opening her eyes, she grinned up at him. "It's too quiet. It makes me think something unexpected is going to happen."

He pulled her closer. "Not here. Nothing exciting ever happens here."

"Except you."

He softly laughed, and Lois decided she loved the feel of it even more than the sound. "Clark Kent exciting? I must be doing this whole disguise thing wrong."

Lois' brow furrowed and she sat up straighter again to look at him. "Superman's the disguise. And Clark Kent is exciting, for those with the intelligence to see it."

That made him laugh even harder.

"Besides," she added, resting her head on his shoulder again when he'd settled down a bit, "I was thinking more about what your mom said earlier today about her baby being delivered by spaceship."

He sobered. "True. And Zod's ship. And the fight down Main Street. I guess I am the exciting thing that happens here."

Lois could hear the regret thick in his voice, and it made her own heart ache. "That wasn't your fault."

"I know. But people still got hurt – and killed."

"Hey." She reached up and, resting her hand on his cheek, turned his head so he had to look at her. Though it was muted, there was the same kind of pain in his eyes that she'd seen in the train station on the day of the Battle of Metropolis. Whatever words she'd meant to say died on her tongue. Instead, she shifted to sitting on her knees (trusting him to make sure the swing didn't dump them both onto the porch) and kissed him.

One of his hands on her elbow steadied her, while the other caressed her face. He surrendered to her with surprising ease, an eagerness behind his kisses that started to make Lois' heart race. When he finally leaned away, that pain in his eyes was replaced by a hunger that took her own breath away.

He blinked and glanced away so sharply it was almost like he was shaking his head. "I... think dinner's about ready."

"Clark..."

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, but he seemed at a loss for words.

Lois heard something beeping inside, probably a timer in the kitchen, and she realized Clark's comment wasn't just a distraction. Martha would call them in any second. She wasn't sure exactly what was wrong – or right – about their conversation and kiss, but in this moment, one thing was certain. "I love you, Clark."

He froze for a couple of heartbeats, and then his shoulders relaxed, the tension draining from him. "I love you, too, Lois." Lifting his gaze to hers, a smile twitched on his lips as he said, "That's the first time you've said as much."

She smiled in answer, but in the back of her mind, she wondered if that was true. She was still wracking her memory when Martha stepped out onto the front porch half a moment later. "Well, dinner's ready if you two are."

"It smells heavenly," Lois said, scrambling to her feet and placing her part of the blanket back onto the porch swing.

Martha smiled, nodded, and headed back inside. Clark moved to follow her, but Lois placed her hand on his chest, stopping him, and stood up on her tiptoes to steal a kiss. "I thought you already knew," she murmured.

"I kind of did." He willingly added another to the kiss she'd already stolen. "It's still nice to hear you say it."

...

Lois sat on the windowsill in her makeshift bedroom, looking up at the stars. The storm had rolled on through and the sky had cleared. There was no moon (or at least, it hadn't risen yet), and she just stared at those diamond-sharp stars in awe.

A soft knock on her door made her smile, and Lois crossed the room to open it. She didn't need X-ray vision to know it was Clark. With Martha being on a farm schedule, she'd gone to bed more than an hour before, but even though Lois was still on Metropolis time, it was too early for her to be tired.

Sure enough, he was standing sheepishly in the hallway.

"Couldn't sleep?" she guessed.

"I could hear you were awake," he answered with a shrug.

She opened the door wider and gestured he should join her. "What gave me away? I was trying to be quiet."

He chuckled softly as he entered and made himself comfortable in the recliner. "Your heartbeat was too fast for you to be asleep."

She was surprised that he could hear her that clearly. Of course, considering all he could hear in the storm, she really had no reason to be surprised. Hopping back up in the windowsill, she glanced up at the stars. "This is an amazing view. They almost feel close enough to touch."

"Not quite, but I could get you a little closer if you wanted."

Her heart skipped in delight, and if he could tell she was awake from the other room, she was certain he'd hear it now. "Recreational flight?"

He nodded. "Might want to bundle up a bit, though. That storm cooled things down."

She eagerly grabbed her hoodie and pulled it on over her nightgown.

"I'll...just wait in the hall while you finish getting dressed," he said as he pulled the door closed behind himself.

Lois shook her head in wry amusement. He could see through that door-frame whether the door was open or closed, and yet he was so careful to give her some privacy. That man was too good to be real.

Once she had her jeans, socks and shoes on again, she opened the door. "I'm ready."

He nodded once, grinning, and entered her room. Crossing to the casement window, he opened it, pulled the screen out, and slipped through it like he was swimming to hover on the other side.

Lois eagerly climbed back up onto the windowsill and scooted so that her legs were dangling over the edge.

Clark gathered her up in his arms. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," she answered, resting her head on his shoulder.

His only answer was to float upward, above the rooftop, higher than the trees, climbing and climbing until she could hide the house itself with her outstretched hand.

Her breath caught when she looked up, though. The sky was full of stars – so many that even the familiar constellations were hard to pick out. "How can we not see this?" she murmured. "I mean, I know how, but..." She couldn't recall the last time the stars were her brightest light.

"It's a shame we don't see it more often," Clark agreed. He gradually leaned back, adjusting her position until she was reclining on his chest as they floated, her body parallel to his. One of his arms was around her waist, securing her safely against him, and she relaxed into the warmth rising from his body. She felt as though she was truly adrift among the stars, cuddled with a god in a timeless sliver of a moment. She reached up, half-expecting her fingers to send the stars swirling, but still they were beyond her reach. Compared to this, flying with him before had been only slightly less mundane than taking the subway. This...this was truly magical.

"This is what the night sky looked like for most of humanity's existence," he said. "It's what the sky still looks like, every single night, if you can get far enough away from the light pollution. Kind of hard to believe when we're in Metropolis, though, isn't it."

The thought made her smile. "It's like you – something glorious hidden in plain sight until a person really looks."

His chuckle rumbled beneath her, and it only added to the perfection of the moment. They drifted for several long, peaceful moments before she remembered the dream she'd had months ago of flying with him. They had been under a tropical sun in that dream, and he'd been in the Suit, but the wonder she'd felt then was pretty close to the awe of this moment. The thought made her lightly laugh.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

They drifted on, the storm-cooled breeze making her grateful for her tennis shoes and jacket, but pressed against him like this, she was comfortably warm. The thought made her caress the strong arm that held her safe.

"I'll tell you a secret if you tell me yours," Clark said.

Now she was the one confused. "What?"

"What made you laugh? You tell me and I'll trade. We'll swap secrets."

Well when he put it that way... "I was remembering a dream I had about you."

When she didn't say anything more than that, he prompted, "And...?"

"And we had a great time basking under a tropical sun somewhere. But we were airborne, kind of like now, actually. I'd almost forgotten about it."

"How did you know it was tropical? Was it somewhere you'd been before?"

"No, it was just warm like the tropics." She hesitated, because it sounded so cheesy, but since they were playing teenager BFF-sleepover games, she eventually caved. "I couldn't see anything but you. I couldn't stop touching your face."

Clark didn't answer for a long moment, and Lois felt her face grow hot in embarrassment. It really was ridiculously adolescent. "So what about you? What secret are you going to share?"

"I know someone who has a crush on you."

She rolled her eyes. Now he was making fun of her sophomoric dream. "You do, huh?"

"Yeah, but he's an alien. And he has a tendency to dress funny."

"As long as it's not flannel."

He laughter rumbled through her, thrilling Lois again. Maybe it was his happiness, maybe it was the physical contact, but she loved it. "Seriously, though, that's not anywhere near as embarrassing a secret as mine. What about my crush? Does he ever dream about me?"

"Quite often."

When he didn't say more than that, she demanded, "Well? What do you dream about?"

"Mostly mundane stuff – us at the office together. Cooking together. One time I did dream that Cat Grant tried to kiss me and when I stopped her she said you had given her permission."

"WHAT?!"

"That was pretty much my reaction, but when I looked your way, you nodded and gave me a thumb-up. I spent the rest of the dream hiding from Cat and trying to talk some sense into you. I woke up pretty miffed with you both."

Lois laughed, pleased that even in his dreams he was faithful to her. Of course he would be. He was Clark Kent. "So do you want to go another round of sharing secrets?"

"Sure," he easily answered.

"I get to go first this time," she said. "What scares Superman?"

She felt the air leave his lungs in a whoosh, and she realized that was probably a more personal question than she had a right to ask. Before she could take it back, though, he said, "There have been things that scared me, but...the moment I actually panicked was when I saw Zod threatening my mom." His voice was soft, a quiet horror in it. "It was the first time in my life that I threw a punch. I couldn't stop punching him. I wanted to fight him. I wanted to beat him so thoroughly that he'd never threaten anyone again...Killing him was the only way to stop him, though."

She tilted her head and kissed the one part of him she could reach – his chin. "Thank you. For saving us."

"Don't thank me," he said, still looking up at the sky. "It was the only choice I could make, really. But enough about me. What scares the indomitable Lois Lane?"

She knew he was trying to lighten the mood, so she tried to think of something that was both true and not life-and-death. She'd been in war zones, convinced she wasn't going to make it out alive, and those had terrified her. There was one thing, though, that went even deeper than that.

"You have to promise not to laugh."

"Lois," he chided her.

"I'm just saying, you promised, okay?" Taking a deep breath, she said, "I'm afraid of ovens."

To his credit, Clark didn't laugh. He didn't say anything for a long moment. Eventually he asked, "Did you get burned or...?"

"No, but the cookies did, badly enough that they caught fire."

He shook with silent laughter, and Lois poked him. "You promised."

Clearing his throat, he said, "I'm laughing at the cookies, not you. Go on."

She was grinning, too, as she explained, "My grandma's old range malfunctioned and the self-cleaning setting got turned on. When I opened the oven door, the cookies burst into flame like evil, little charcoal briquettes as soon as the oxygen hit them. Of course, I didn't understand the oxygen part at the time. All I saw was 'demon cookies from hell.' That was the last week Grandma forced me to go to church with her, too."

Clark still hadn't stopped laughing, and Lois nudged him again. "It's funny now, but to a five-year-old it was traumatizing. I'm not sure if there's even a word for it, but I still have a mild phobia about pulling hot pans out of the oven."

"Luckily you have a flame-proof boyfriend to help you in the kitchen."

"I wonder if that's why you're such a good cook. It's all fun and games for you."

He snorted in amusement. "That must be it. Couldn't be the super-smell or -taste."

"Clearly," Lois agreed.

"This is the first time you mentioned your grandmother," Clark said. "Tell me more about her."

"She's the only one I remember – my mom's mom. They...well, let's just say that they made critical thinking a family affair. Mom was hard on me like Grandma was hard on her, but Grandma spoiled both me and Lucy rotten. Sometimes I think it was to spite my mom."

Clark shifted, and she glanced up to see him shaking his head. "The more I learn about your family, the more I'm impressed with you. Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm kind of impressed Lucy and I ended up as sane as we are. Of course, we had each other for moral support and some good therapists over the years. Mom just had her brother, and Grandma was always comparing her to him. But Grandma was our Disney World grown-up. While Mom and Dad were going the rounds, she'd take us everywhere – to the beach in Florida, camping in cabins at national parks, museums all up and down the East Coast. I haven't gone on a real vacation since she died my junior year in college." Lois paused, getting choked up a little remembering. "I chalk up my love for travel and adventure to her." Clearing her throat, she said, "What about you? Are your grandparents still alive?

"Grandma Kent lived with us for a few years, until I was about seven years old. I think they put her in a nursing home and she died a year or so later. Both her and Grandpa Kent had been heavy smokers, so her health was really poor. Mom's parents lived on a farm over by Lawrence and were alive into my teenage years."

"Did...did they know about you?"

"Kind of. They knew I'd been found in a field, but I think my parents left out the spaceship part. I'm sure I accidentally let some things slip around them, but all of them made it clear they loved me no matter what."

"Lucky," she muttered.

"I don't know. I've never been to Disney World. Grandma Kent loved to read to me, though..." He told her stories about Grandma Kent, how she taught him to garden and read, how she always made the best homemade bread, how she washed his mouth out with soap the first (and only) time he used a curse word in front of her. Lois closed her eyes, imagining the picture his words were painting. Somewhere under those stars, suspended between heaven and earth, she drifted off into a blissful sleep. She only realized it, though, when Clark jostled her a little. "Lois? Lois, I can't fit us both through the window at the same time."

"Hmm?" she asked, a little disoriented by the sudden presence of the house. He set her on the windowsill and helped her swing her legs back inside. She staggered to her feet, and he was instantly beside her, his hand on her elbow steadying her until she collapsed onto the couch. He tucked her in, kissed her cheek, and whispered, "Sweet dreams."

She sleepily smiled. "You, too." Her last thought before drifting off was that no dream could top falling asleep in his arms while listening to his voice.

Her subconscious did it's best that night, though.